One Day
by helpfulfairy92
Summary: Klaus read the note again. He wasn't sure how many times he had read it now, but the words were making less and less sense, swimming together on the page and in his mind. Klaroline but Klaus centric.


_**These two are ruining my life. I have so much exam study and then this won't leave me alone. I swear.**_

 _ **(Considering my feelings on miracle unicorn babies, none of them here)**_

 _ **Anyway, enjoy!**_

...

 _Klaus,_

 _I'm sorry, I know it's cowardly to sneak away while you're sleeping, but I know if I had waited for you to wake up, you would have talked me into staying, and I probably would have let you._

 _Thank you for this, and for Paris and Tokyo. It has been beyond perfect with you._

 _If this is a sneak peek into our future, then I promise I won't keep us waiting too much longer._

 _I just have a few more things to do on my own first though._

 _I'm sorry._

 _You know, I've always imagined our reunion to be on a beach somewhere, at sunset, with the sky melting into the sea, a bottle of our favourite on ice._

 _How do you feel about Bali?_

 _Almost yours,_

 _Caroline_

...

Klaus read the note again. He wasn't sure how many times he had read it now, but the words were making less and less sense, swimming together on the page and in his mind.

He was tempted to call her, but he knew she wouldn't answer today, probably wouldn't answer his call until she was ready to, and only she knew how long that would be.

 _I promise I won't keep us waiting too much longer._

How much longer to wait though? It could easily be another twenty, another fifty years, or she could turn up in the next month or so.

He was content to wait for her to be ready, of course, but waiting was awful, he could be patient, and would be for her, but it was awful.

But, he had already waited ninety-five years, so what was a little longer in the face of their eternity.

She had clearly understood what he had meant when he promised to leave that day in the woods. She had read both what he had said, and what he hadn't. That he would wait for _her_ to come to him.

He'd always meant to break that promise.

He had made a promise _before_ that one, to be her last love, and that (in his mind at least) trumped any others he'd made.

It was also the promise he liked best.

And alright, so maybe he was being slightly underhanded, picking and choosing which of his promises to honour, but like Damon Salvatore had once said to him, "if you're going to be bad, be bad with purpose. Otherwise you're just not worth forgiving."

It was perhaps the only useful thing Damon had ever said to anyone, ever. Maybe it was time to be bad with purpose.

(Did breaking a promise to love her until the end of his days really count as a bad thing?)

And so now here he was, clutching a piece of paper like it was a life line, and in a way, it was. It was concrete proof that she had written this, she had said she could have been swayed into staying. She had plans for their reunion, had thought about it.

Had thought about their future. Together. And that she was _looking forward to it_.

He was sorely tempted to camp out in Bali until she turned up.

He'd already sent one of his hybrids scouring Rome for any trace of her, but they had come back empty handed, barring one lone sighting of her at the airport.

She would already be in the air by now.

Rome was the last city on their silly list, Rome, Paris, Tokyo.

He traced the last line of her note, feeling the indentation of the pen on the nice hotel stationary.

 _Almost Yours, Caroline_

His monster roared in his chest, a victorious roar that had a small genuine grin curling across his lips.

...

He'd known in Tokyo that she wasn't ready yet.

But she had called one day out of the blue and asked if he would mind being her tour guide.

He couldn't resist.

Didn't want to resist really.

So, he'd picked her up from the airport, smile in place, had dragged her all over the city, showing her everything and anything he could think of.

She had confessed late one night that it had felt wrong going to Tokyo without him, and had asked if he would take her to Rome or Paris next.

They had parted at the airport a week and a half later with plans for a return trip and a promise that she would call to organise Paris lingering in the air between them.

Paris had been two weeks of bliss.

The city of love had worked its magic, and they had spent the second half of their trip sequestered in the hotel, not that either of them had complained all that much.

Again, they had parted at the airport with plans for a return trip to catch all they had missed, and she had placed a gentle kiss on his cheek before smiling shyly and going through to her gate.

He hoped, perhaps foolishly, for Rome to complete the long ago spoken of trio, and for once, his hope paid off, she called him eight months after his return from Paris.

"When do you want to leave for Italy?" she had asked, bypassing a greeting.

"Caroline?" He was tempted to check the caller ID, but there was no mistaking the impatient huff on the end of the phone.

"I had planned to be in New York until we leave, so I was wondering if you wanted to go over together, I could come down to New Orleans, and we can leave from there?" her initial confidence had flagged slightly, and he almost smiled at the small thread of doubt in her voice.

"Or," he drew out the word, "We could use the jet, pick you up in New York and we carry on from there?" there was silence on the other end of the phone, only a slight displacement of air,

"Or we could do that" he could hear the smile in her voice as she agreed "does September work for you?"

"Sounds perfect sweetheart" he made a mental note to tell Elijah that the jet was going to be in Italy for September, and that he would _hopefully_ returning with another passenger.

She had greeted him with a laugh and a tight hug, and his dead heart had surged when she'd kissed him.

Right there in the middle of the airport in New York, with no hesitation.

They spend a perfect month in Rome, and he was quietly hopeful they wouldn't be parting this time.

Had hoped and prayed to every deity he knew of that she would be returning with him, or if not returning, that they would be travelling on to where ever.

As long as they were together, he wasn't going to be too fussy about the _where_ of it.

As the month had drawn to a close, he had teasingly told her they could stay another month if she wanted. She had just given him a shy smile, linked her arm through his and dragged him down another side street.

That had been two days ago, and this morning he hand woken to nothing but her smell across the cold sheets, across his skin, with Caroline and her things nowhere to be found.

"Her credit card was used to purchase a ticket to New York, the flight left an hour ago" a hybrid told him, and he nodded, eyes still glued to the lines of her letter.

He wondered if it was foolish of him to keep hoping for her, for them to happen. It had been nearly a century since that day in the woods. Nearly a century of waiting and hoping and waiting.

But she had signed the letter, _almost yours._

 _Almost._

With a sigh, he folded the note and slipped it into his pocket, packed his suitcase and called Elijah to let him know he was coming home.

Alone.

...

He tried to put it out of his mind, to put _her_ out of his mind. It was a near impossible feat of course, but while he may not have _wanted_ to wait, he could, and would for her.

After all, he had waited this long for her to show even a shred of interest.

And once he'd gotten that small shred, he had held on with greedy, gentle fingers. Not willing to let it go, not willing to let it out of his sight for even a second lest she snatch it back.

He could wait a little longer.

She was, of course, never far from his thoughts.

When he woke up, there was an empty pillow next to his, when he showered, there were empty shelves in his shower, when he dressed, there was an empty side of his closet.

It was one such day a few months later, (sixteen, but who was counting) he was _extracting_ information from a betrayer when his phone rang from his back pocket.

He almost ignored it when he saw the unfamiliar number, but knowing Rebekah's penchant for losing her phone, it was probably better that he answer it.

"What" he snarled down the line, walking away from the whimpers of pain from the bloody vampire he had chained to a chair.

"Hello, Mr Mikaelson, I'm sorry for the interruption, I'm calling from The Soori Bali, have I caught you at a bad time?" his breath caught, and something that tasted like hope unfurling through his veins.

"Now's fine, what is this about exactly?"

"I was just calling to confirm your arrival date of next Friday?" a smile teased at the edge of his mouth, not many people could get away with summoning him like this.

In fact, that list could be counted with one finger.

"Right," he drew the word out, "and has my travelling companion arrived yet?" he asked slowly

"Ah, yes, she arrived this morning and checked into the villa. She asked me to call and confirm your arrival date"

 _Cheeky thing_.

She must have known he wouldn't have waited until _next week_ to join her.

He had been waiting for this day long enough, that once given a green light he wasn't about to hesitate.

"I see, if you could you let her know that my plans have changed, that I'll be arriving earlier than expected. My flight out of Louisiana leaves this evening. Can you have a car meet me at the airport?"

"Oh. Yes, of course, just have the flight details sent onto us. We look forward to having you stay with us, Mr Mikaelson."

He hung up, taking the stairs out of their basement/dungeon bellowing into the quiet house for his brother.

"'Lijah! I need the jet, _now_ "

...

The villa was beautiful, he was sure, but he didn't have time to stop and admire it. He had his sights set on the blond lounging outside.

She was sitting on one of two loungers, a champagne ice bucket in-between the seats, flutes ready and waiting to be filled.

"You're late, I had half expected you to be here when I arrived" she teased, watching as he popped the cork and filled the flutes, handing her one before sitting on the edge of her lounger.

"My apologies love," she lightly clinked her glass against his, bright smile in place.

"Are you sure Caroline?" his voice was quiet, but the meaning was clear. "I don't know that I'll be able to let you go, or that I'll want to, so please," he hated the weakness of his plea, " _please_ be sure sweetheart"

She set her flute down, and reached over to put his next to hers, and held his cheeks in her fingers, the same way she had that day in the woods, in Paris and New York and Rome, and let her forehead rest against his.

"I'm only going to say this once, ok, so listen." She took a steadying breath, and his eyes locked onto hers.

"I'm here because there is nowhere else I'd rather be. I would never have called you about Tokyo if I had any doubts about my feelings, or about us. I just took a little longer to get here. But now, we're on the same page, and I-" she never got to finish her sentence, his lips stealing away whatever she had planned to say next.

It was a while before either of them broke the silence, but she was resting her head against the cotton of his chest, legs twined with his on the sun lounger, her tucked securely into his arms when she spoke, quiet but steady,

"I'm sure"


End file.
